


Stop Playing Around in the Mud!

by missjoshemmett



Series: AU Robin of Sherwood [3]
Category: Robin of Sherwood AU
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjoshemmett/pseuds/missjoshemmett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the final part of the opening trilogy to my AU Robin of Sherwood series.  In this part the outlaws head north to save Guy's sister and a priory.  And to finally become one again since Robin's return.</p>
<p>© 2012</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Playing Around in the Mud!

 

FOREWORD

 

This is the third part of the opening of an AU ‘Robin of Sherwood’ series I have created. The first two parts are ‘Nothing’s Ever Forgotten’ and ‘Not _Your_ Friend’. Although the rest of the stories in my series stand on their own, this one, and the others that follow, will be less confusing if you read the first two parts, or at least part 2. The ‘Ballad of Robin Hood’s’ music and meter is based on the song used in ‘Alan a Dale’ in the original RoS series.

 

 

DEDICATIONS

 

This story is dedicated to Michael Praed (who still inspires me), Claire (for her beta work), Betty Ricca (who died before I could complete part 3), Susan Mayer (for the suggested Saxon name for Robin’s mother), Karen Osment (I promised to use Martin in one of my stories) and all the fans of ‘Robin of Sherwood’ for keeping the dream alive.

 

 

 

** PROLOGUE**

 

At first, their goal was Nottingham. People had willingly put them up along the way. No one would pass up an opportunity to house two nuns. The blessing their homes would receive was worth it. However, as they came closer to their destination, they were informed that the sheriff they were seeking, Robert de Rainault, was dead. His steward was ‘missing’. That was all anyone knew. The older nun thought it better to turn back as she knew that the Sheriff’s brother was the Abbot Hugo. Now, they were told that Hugo was defrocked and no one knew where he was either. But none of this deterred the younger nun. She knew that _something_ was driving her forward.

At the last place they stopped, the husband had told them they would be better off seeking Robin i’ the Hood if they needed help. Although he, too, had not been seen for over a year, the rumours were strong that he was alive and would soon be making a reappearance. Others had helped in his stead, but all the folk of Sherwood and, indeed, all of England itself just _knew_ the time was coming when they would see him again.

The two nuns walked as quickly has they could through Sherwood Forest. Both were wearing black ankle length cloaks with the hoods pulled down over their foreheads. The older woman was austere with a face that gave no indication of what she was thinking. The younger woman was very pretty and small. She had a look of determination on her fresh face. She looked about as she walked, interested in taking in everything around her and listening for what she called ‘a voice’ to tell her when they had reached their destination.

Prioress Aurelia had not left the Priory of Keldholme for many decades and she had been extremely content with her vocation. Keldholme, on the River Dove, was a small Cistercian nunnery founded by Robert de Stuteville and, despite the ‘troubles’, the grant was confirmed by King John a year or two after his encounter with Prioress Aurelia, no doubt out of fear of reprisal owing, no doubt, out of fear of reprisal.

Prioress Aurelia was secure in the knowledge that her love for God warranted leaving her family and friends forever at 13, that it had been the correct thing to do. She was now 50 years old and rather frightened to find herself standing in Sherwood Forest. _My shoes are quite scuffed_ , she thought. Then she caught herself. _Oh, dear. The sin of pride. No. No. It is_ not _pride. It is simply that we have so little and I do not wish be a burden on the Church. Yes. That is it!_ But something in the back of her mind said, _Is it so easy to get caught up in the outside world, even after all these years?_

When the priest, who serviced their priory about once a month, had arrived earlier than usual on his rounds for confession and communion, the Prioress knew her life was about to be turned upside-down. His words of warning had sent the two women from safety to a search for outlaws. The Prioress and young nun had traveled on palfreys from Northern England, passing through small villages. Whether the villagers were Christian or pagan, they greeted the nuns with respect, putting them up for the night, feeding them and asking for blessings. A few even pressed coins into the Prioress’ hand as the women left. At first, the Prioress had felt guilty taking money from people who could scarcely afford it, but she knew it would go directly to God when she got home, so she felt better. At the last village, the young nun had told the Prioress that she had had a dream in which ‘the voice’ had told her that they must go on foot into the forest. Someone was waiting for them. The Prioress wondered how that could be, but felt that, surely, it was the guiding hand of God, so they must go forth.

They had moved through the forest for half a day, stepping over fallen trees, tripping through the underbrush and splashing across small streams, daintily holding their habits up to avoid getting them wet, but there was nothing they could do for their shoes. At last, with the sun straight overhead, the younger nun paused then rushed ahead through the trees. None of this had seemed as much a torture for her as the older woman. Now, the Prioress called out for the impulsive nun to wait up. The Prioress joined her a couple of minutes later at the edge of a small clearing, noting that a tree branch had pulled the wimple from the younger nun’s head. She had paused for a second to hastily grab it and it was still in her hand. Her dark unevenly short-cropped hair was shining in the sun.

“This is the place!” the young nun whispered excitedly. “Wait here.”

Before Prioress Aurelia could stop her, the young nun rushed to the center of the clearing and stood perfectly still. “Guy? _Guy_?” She looked about and then raised her voice and shouted as loudly as she could. “GUY!”

There was a thrashing in the undergrowth to their right and a tall blond-haired man burst out and stopped in a frozen stare. “Gunny?”

“Oh, Guy, I _knew_ I would find you!” And the nun ran to the tall man, jumping up and throwing her arms about his neck. He reacted by putting his arms around her and swinging her in a circle.

A much taller man stepped more quietly out of the trees and stared at the scene in front him. Then, making eye contact with the older nun, he rubbed his beard and shrugged his shoulders. “ _Gunny?_ ”

 

>\------------->

 

An AU story based on the characters in _Robin of Sherwood_

 

 

**STOP PLAYING AROUND IN THE MUD!**

 

Tuck and Alan a Dale sat in front of the small campfire. The rest of the outlaws and Sir Guy of Gisburne had set out earlier to find food for their supper.

Tuck usually went with them but, after a quick discussion with Robin, had stayed behind with Alan. A lot had happened in the past months and a very big adventure lay ahead. Tuck felt he _needed_ to talk with Alan alone. Alan had felt the same way.

The night before, the outlaws drank some of the wine Alan had recently brought from a trip to Nottingham, where he had performed and gathered news, and pretended to make merry with many a toast to Herne the Hunter. Now, Alan and Tuck sat finishing off the dregs.

Finally, Alan said in a low voice, “Well, animus amicus, in vino veritas?”

Tuck smiled. He had known for quite awhile that Alan spoke Latin among his many languages, but it was the first time he had acknowledged it. Tuck liked to speak in Latin when blessing the outlaws, so they didn’t know he was actually praying for their souls and, hopefully, conversion. Alan hadn’t let on that he knew the friar’s secret. Finally, Tuck’s smile broke into a giggle. After another swallow, he muttered, “‘Soul friend,’ indeed, Alan. And ‘in wine, truth’ is very right. What do you have to tell me, as I know something has been gnawing at you?”

“Not exactly ‘gnawing,’ friar. Just something I thought I should let you know, that I am sure Robin does not, although I am _sure_ he saw it.”

“Interesting… What loosens your tongue _now_ , Alan?”

“This quest, as you like to call it, bares another truth. I will not be going, as you well know, but I think you wonder _why_ Herne might be concerned with this particular one. Enough to save Guy. Enough to bring _me_ here. Enough to convince Robin it is the right thing to do.”

“I _have_ been wondering…”

“Etched very deeply into the cave wall in the niche where Herne sleeps is a very small cross. It is in the center and other religious symbols, from around the known world, encircle it. There are different drawings as well. Ones you might expect. The sun, the moon in its various phases, and trees. _Many_ trees. And bushes and small flowers. Crude, but, still, well done. One in particular caught my eye. It is in a curve in the wall. It appears to be a bush with wavy lines coming out above it. When the firelight hits it, the lines seem to move. Of what does _that_ remind you?

Tuck set the small bowl down and crossed himself. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”

Tuck set the small bowl down and crossed himself. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”

Alan crossed himself as well. “Amen.”

“Moses and the _burning_ bush.”

“But there is _more_. One other, not far from the burning bush, is a carving of what looks like twigs with a figure lying on them. And there is another figure standing over him with his arms raised. Coming from the ends of lines representing arms is a short line, pointing at the figure on the twigs. And between them is a crudely drawn hand. What think you of _that_?”

“Abraham, Isaac and God.”

“And there is a circle newly drawn about that scene, as if to set it apart. But, here is the strange thing. As I was looking at it, I thought not of Abraham and Isaac, but of Herne and Robin. What do you make of _that_?”

Tuck turned to Alan. “Robin’s ‘death’.”

Alan nodded his head. Then they sat for a few minutes, staring into the fire. Finally, Tuck spoke again. “Thank you, my animus amicus. You have given me much to think about on our journey. And hope, as well. I knew I was here in Sherwood for a purpose. Now, I will just have to watch for the signs to know what to do next.”

The two men fell silent again, staring into the fire, downing the last dregs of wine.

 

>\------------->

 

A rustle from the forest caused Tuck and Alan to look up. What they saw brought them to their feet, with Tuck blushing from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Robin Hood and the rest of the outlaws stepped into the clearing with two women. Tuck immediately recognized the garments under the open cloaks. One in particular. The habit of a prioress. She, in turn, frowned at the disheveled friar and what looked like a goat hide wineskin.

Tuck hurried forward to bow before the Prioress. She replied with a frown and curt nod of her head.

“What brings you to our humble home, Mother?” Tuck inquired as Alan pulled a log to the fire and brushed it off. Marion of Sherwood shook her head with a pained look on her face. Quickly, she grabbed a blanket, shook it out and, placing it on the log, waved her hand for the older nun to be seated.

After the nun had seated herself, the younger nun plopped down at her feet pulling Guy with her.

Looking at Alan and Tuck, he sighed. “This is my sister, Gunnora.”

“Guy’s sister is a sister!” Much laughed and sat down to stare at her. Will Scarlet and Nasir the Saracen shook their heads and headed for their favourite spots.

“Did you get anything?” Tuck inquired.

Will waved his hand at the two nuns. “Take Gisburne out for his first hunt and we catch two _nuns_!” He scowled at Guy.

“Then leftover rabbit stew will have to do!” Tuck smiled brightly and stoked the fire for cooking.

Robin pulled at the strings of his hood and withdrew Albion from its scabbard, sticking it into the ground: an action that caused him to pull at the hood’s strings again as he straightened up. He sucked in his lower lip and looked helplessly at Marion.

Marion shook her head again and asked the Prioress if a bowl of water to wash her hands and face would be nice. The austere woman nodded her head once.

“I had a _feeling_ we would find you, Guy! I told the Mother Prioress as well. And it brought us right to where we could find you!” Sister Gunnora’s words tumbled over themselves. “I am _sure_ it was God!”

“Too right. And do not let her _near_ Albion!” Will mumbled and Nasir raised one eyebrow, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing aloud.

Prioress Aurelia finished wiping the dirt from her face and hands. Then she turned to Tuck as if nothing had been said or done since his first question. “Rumours. Silly rumours. This is why I joined the convent many years hence: to avoid all nuisances of them. However, if there is an ounce of truth to this one rumour, we are quite unprotected.”

Little John rubbed his beard and turned to Robin. “I see a long journey ahead of us and it is _not_ to Wales.” The trip they had originally planned would take them through Derbyshire. John was born there and that is where he and Much had gone during Robin’s absence. John was looking forward to possibly visiting family and friends.

After their meal, Tuck suggested that they go to the edge of the lake to pray. He and the two nuns walked across the grass and knelt down. Very quickly, Guy and Alan joined them. The rest of the outlaws stared for a moment and then set about cleaning up with much eye rolling and shaking of heads.  
  
  


>\------------->

 

A clamor from the forest preceded the entrance of Robin and his men with horses and wagon in tow.

“See what a fine gift has been given to us by a kindly merchant and his guards!” Robin grinned.

Tuck stood up, shaking his head. “And is this fine fellow smiling as broadly as _you_ , my son?”

Little John walked to the fire. “No. And I cannot understand why.”

“Very odd, indeed,” added Will. “Oy! Is there any food left?”

Nasir walked around a black horse and brushed it with his palm, smiling before he, too, headed for the fire.

Guy and Alan had stayed behind. Guy was ‘entertaining’ the two nuns by the Gisburne tree, and he and Gunnora were on their feet in no time. Quickly, Guy was running his hands over a large grey horse, looking into its mouth and checking the withers, legs and hooves.

Robin frowned. “Going to check _all_ of them, Gisburne?” Guy ignored him.

Gunnora watched with approving eyes. “He looks just like _Greystoke_ , Guy. Do you not think so? _Just_ like Greystoke!” She turned and looked at the Mother Superior. “Guy had a descrier that looked just like this horse when we were little. His name was Greystoke.”

Much and Marion were bringing up the rear with a small pretty palfrey. Marion handed the reins to the friar and smiled. “An ambler for my dearest Tuck.”

“If he doesn’t flatten it,” muttered Will.

“The _merchant_ was fat!” Much countered.

Tuck put on his best ‘hurt’ face and ran his hands over his own girth. Then he joined in the laughter.

Marion turned to the Prioress. “We shall pick up your amblers on the way there.” She smiled, but it was really in the knowledge that Robin would have no excuse not to take her. There would be no arguing this night.

“And what is all that unearthly noise?” Alan asked as he picked up his bag and lute.

“Pots and pans!” Much said with round eyes.

“Yes. And might we pick a few to keep?” Marion turned to Robin, her eyes wide in her small round freckled face surrounded by the long curly red hair.

Before Robin could answer, Will called out, “ _Nesting_?” Marion made a nasty face at him then turned back to her husband.

“Whatever you and Tuck think we _need_ , my love,” Robin acquiesced quickly.

Will made a face back at Marion and turned to join Alan. He was going to walk with him a ways to get Martin and another young man, Phillip, from a nearby village. Alan paused and raised his hand in a salute. “I am off! _One_ of us has to actually _work_ for a living!” And, with a big grin, he stepped into the trees. All the outlaws made a face at his back. Even Will, who then jogged to catch up with the minstrel.

 

>\------------->

 

Guy stood brushing the gray horse with a handful of bracken from the forest floor. He had enjoyed horses since he was lad. Riding, grooming, even mucking out the stables at his father’s grange was fine with Guy, although there were local boys who were hired for such work.

However, the stable master had noticed the lad’s moods. Guy would swing from anger to sadness, depending on the atmosphere in the small castle. His father, Edmund of Gisburne, who owned land in various countries and fought in the Crusades, was a favourite of King Richard.

However, the knight had a short temper and, when home, often took it out on his family. Margaret of Gisburne was a North England woman and preferred to stay in her own area after the arranged marriage to Edmund. She had been to the other estates, but had become almost housebound after their last stay in his grange near Anglesey, Wales. So, Guy had been raised in Wales, a country he hated, and England.

Margaret was a gentle woman, who loved her two children dearly. For Edmund, Guy, of course, was the favoured child being a boy and looking very much like himself. The girl, Gunnora, was quite like her mother and had chosen to become a nun when she was very young. Margaret treated both of her children with love and made them laugh with stories and games. But the laughter never lasted long in Guy.

Guy learned a great deal about horses from Wymun, the stable master. And, when given the chance, would spend the whole day riding his destrier, Greystoke. When he became a soldier, he took Greystoke with him. When the horse was killed in battle, he rode what he could find. Now, Guy looked at the gray and saw the ghost of the horse he had loved and lost. Odd it should look so much like Greystoke. Guy thought of saying a prayer of thanks to God, but what came out was, _No doubt a trick of Herne’s, damn him_. He continued to brush the horse and mull over his words from the new people he found himself dealing with, the outlaws.

 

>\------------->

 

The outlaws had made plans for a journey to the grange near Anglesey, Wales. They would travel in disguise as merchants of some sort. They knew Herne would provide. And they would need horses as well, or some sort of conveyance as they knew time was growing precious. Surely, Sir Richard Fitzgilbert would have given up on finding Guy and assume he was dead by now. So, he would have to change his plans. Going to Holyhead himself would seem the most likely idea.

They had decided to set out that day, after Alan returned with the information that the Sheriff was, indeed, planning a trip. William Marshal had arrived in Nottingham. The outcome was not good enough for the King, and Marshal told Fitzgilbert as much. The Sheriff was enraged. This had put him in a bad light with the King. And as Marshal left, he told the Sheriff as much.

Guy had watched as plans were made, maps drawn in the dirt, and there were exchanges of information about the route. He was being trained in the ways of the forest. He knew that if he killed a deer, it would make him an outlaw for sure. But instead of killing a deer or trapping some rabbits, his prize had been two nuns!

 

>\------------->

 

When the praying was done, the five people returned to the fire. The Prioress settled herself, once again, on the log. It was time for her to reveal why they had come to Sherwood Forest in search of help.

“We have a priest who does the rounds of villages for marriages, baptisms, confessions and the like. He, of course, stays with us when he is in the area and hears all of our confessions. When he leaves, he blesses the convent. During his stays, he tells me of news concerning the outside world. I have little interest in petty talk as it is quite sinful. However, I do need to know of the doings of King John and England for our continued prayer.

“This time, he told me something I found quite shocking and ordered him to keep it to himself. I felt it was blasphemous and told him as much. However, he begged me to listen, as it seemed that King John, himself, had ordered a man called Sir Richard Fitzgilbert to descend upon the priory in search of a certain nun.”

“That would be _me_!” Sister Gunnora interrupted.

“You are a _cloistered_ nun?” demanded Will.

Prioress Aurelia sighed. “I am afraid I quite agree with young Scarlet, here, for once.”

Will wiped the grin off his face and settled down, blushing, head bowed.

“If it had not been for hearing Sister Gunnora’s name, I would have put the idea of the very _mention_ of the Holy Grail straight out of mind, perhaps even written a letter to the head of the Church in complaint about the priest!” The nun raised her chin in a superior way and blew a sniff out of her nose.

This very act surprised them all. Then they saw the gravity of the situation in her eyes and nodded in solemn agreement.

“Sister Gunnora was a handful from the very start. I wondered what she was even _doing_ in my priory. I had thought she would be better suited as a Sister of Charity or in an orphanage, a place where she could talk and interact with other people. Now, I knew I might have a clue. If _any_ of this were true and the child had been told the same by her mother, it would be a safe way to protect the secret.”

Sister Gunnora had assured everyone that she knew nothing of a grail, Holy or otherwise. If her father had ever had it, he had hidden it well. Prioress Aurelia felt that either the Roman soldiers had given it to the monks at Holyhead or had hidden it in the former fort where Sir Edward, upon finding it, had most likely given it to the Church. She had heard rumours as a child that the Holy Grail was in England. But, also, she had learned that _every_ country had claimed to have it. Her lovely priory would be destroyed for nothing.

“Men are quite silly creatures, with the exception of the Pope, and boast about many things when they are drunk.” Again, that austere expression spread across Prioress Aurelia’s face, her spine straight and her chin held high, and none of the outlaws said a word. As a matter of fact, they had put their heads down in shame. Even Marion and Gunnora looked a bit guilty.

Later that night, as they lay together, Robin asked Marion if she thought _he_ was silly.

“Of course,” she murmured, placing her head on his shoulder.

Robin chewed the corner of his mouth and let his eyes roam through the trees as he thought about her quick answer. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth, only to hear Marion’s quiet little snore that he loved so dearly and would hate to ever live without. So, he let his breath out in a sigh. _No wonder men are always so anxious to run off to war. For the peace and quiet!_ Then he glanced at the top of Marion’s head, wrapped his arm around her a little tighter and smiled. He let out an audible breath through his nose and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. _Well, maybe…just a little…silly…_

 

>\------------->

 

The outlaws and nuns were now well on their way to the priory. In Royal Forests, many of the people had their own names for the areas in which they resided. Everyone was now headed toward what the inhabitants called the Forest of Galtres.

Will was the most uneasy as the last time they had all traveled so far away from Sherwood, they had encountered Lucifer himself. He had not wanted to go the first time and had been quite vocal about it. Now, he kept quiet. He had finally resigned himself to following Robin wherever he felt he needed to go. _At least we got out of going to Wales…_ Oddly, Guy was thinking the very same thought at the very same time…

When Will had returned with Martin and Phillip, old comrades from the early days, he had more news. They hadn’t been able to get it out themselves at the sight of both Robin and Guy. Actually seeing them, especially Robin, had seemed to strike them dumb. Will told the outlaws and nuns a shortened version of the story, most happy to let everyone know that Fitzgilbert had fallen ill, which had delayed his trip. He was only now preparing for the same journey north. Meanwhile, King John had brought a few chosen men and William Marshal to Nottingham and was furious at the delay. But there was nothing he could do. The King could, of course, have just gone on ahead, leading Fitzgilbert’s soldiers himself, but he had decided to wait. No one knew (except, perhaps, the Sheriff and Marshal) that, basically, King John was a coward.

After stopping by the village where they had last stayed, the Prioress had decided to stay with the wagon, giving the couple her palfrey. Sister Gunnora wanted to ride her little ambler.

The Prioress had also asked Marion to ride with her on occasion, letting Much ride the white horse she had picked for herself. They spoke mostly of Gunnora. Marion was quite curious about her new sister-in-law and felt a bit sad, although she did not show it, that Gunnora had chosen to be a nun. It seemed that the girl was a dap hand at doing things about the priory, especially bee-keeping!

The outlaws had spaced themselves, so the whole company was not riding together, meeting up at night to camp. Along the way, they were occasionally stopped by people to buy a pot or pan. Everyone was annoyed at the delay, but they did not want any suspicious behaviour to get back to the King along the journey. While riding with Marion for a spell in the wagon, Gunnora told her why she had become a cloistered nun.

“Mother came to me when I was 13 and said that Father had arranged a marriage for me. Mother was not sure when it was to take place, as the man was much older. Perhaps, he would wait a year until I was 14. Father said he was handsome and wealthy and a knight! I was quite excited at the prospect, but Mother was worried. She, too, was in an arranged marriage and it had not gone well.

“I know this would hurt Guy, but when Father came home from the Crusades to die, the tears Mother wept were those of joy, not sorrow. She feigned the grief for all to see, but her heart had leapt inside. She would now be alone in her lovely home. She wanted to share it with her children, but Guy went off to join King Richard in Father’s stead and, now, Sir Fitzgilbert was in a hurry to wed.”

“Sir _Richard_ Fitzgilbert?” Marion’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “This little group of ours does get smaller and smaller. Does Guy know? It could have been another reason for the Sheriff to hate him so. He has never married. Was there a dowry?”

“Why, yes, there was!” Gunnora’s eyes matched Marion’s and they realized they looked quite alike in many ways. “King Richard had left my dowry intact for his friend. But when the wedding never took place, the monies were sent to the King by the man running the estate until mother’s death.”

“More and more tangled, Gunny, dear. Our Sherwood is becoming a very small forest, indeed. But…continue.”

“As things stood, mother might have put him off but, soon after Father’s death, she received notice that all of Father’s lands now belonged to King Richard. He did send a note, by his own hand in French, that she could stay where she was for the rest of her life. He had kind words for Father’s bravery, gentlemanliness, and other glowing virtues. As much as mother cringed from them, she was ever so grateful for a place to live. However, she knew Sir Fitzgilbert and had never wanted me to marry him in the first place. She told me about him and I was very afraid. I asked her what I should do. She fretted that Guy was gone, as he would have been able to challenge him. So, she told me to become a nun. And that brings us quite close together my dear sister-in-law as it was your only choice as well!”

“More’s the pity for you, Gunny. _I_ got a man.” And both young women broke into merry laughter. Everyone, especially Prioress Aurelia, riding Sister Gunnora’s ambler, turned to stare, and Gunny dipped her head and placed her hands in the sleeves of her habit. Marion stared straight ahead, shifting the reins, and adopted her ‘knowing’ look. The outlaws knew it well and turned away, but the Prioress frowned. Finally, she, too, looked ahead. And the two young women quietly giggled.

 

>\------------->

 

Reaching the top of a small hill, the strange party of outlaws and nuns fanned out and sat looking at the convent on the top of the hill across from them. Keldholme Priory. They had made it without incident.

Glancing into the small ravine, Robin said, “Did they pass us somewhere? Are they already here?”

“Those are _not_ soldiers!” Guy growled. “They are in the ravine. No solider would set up camp in a _ravine_!”

Prioress Aurelia interrupted. “They are villagers. I recognize many of them.” She raised a hand and the people below cheered in recognition. Their beloved Prioress had returned safely.

Gisburne frowned. “Well, _this_ is going to be a lot of work! One thing in our favour, though.”

Robin turned to look at him. “Only _one_?”

“Hmmm… King John and Sir Richard think they are just facing a nunnery.” He nodded toward the priory gate. “Just have to break through the main gates and face a bunch of _nuns_. Therefore, it will be a small contingent of foot soldiers.” He turned to Robin. “It is amazing how far a trained soldier can go on a forced march. We most likely passed _them_ on a parallel route. But they will not be far behind.” Then, Guy turned back and mumbled aloud. “Wonder if I can get the rabble to move up here?”

Robin wasn’t really listening. He mind had gone back to Castle Belleme. They had lost Dickon and Tom. He had told all of the outlaws who had joined the fight that day, and any villagers who would listen, never to stand the soldiers down. They were to run into Sherwood. They could defeat an army in the forest, but be cut to pieces in the open. He turned to Little John, who was seated on the horse beside him.

Little John, too, was lost in thought. He turned to Robin. “It is _still_ my fault. Dickon and Tom.”

Before, Robin could correct the gentle giant one more time, Gisburne interrupted. “ _Excuse me_! Trying to save my _life_ here. You in the bargain!” And he slapped the horse’s chest with his legs and headed down into the ravine. The rest followed suit.

The villagers had old swords, poles, pitchforks, slingshots…anything they could find to defend the priory. Word had spread about the Prioress leaving and the possibility that the convent could be attacked. These were mainly Church people and, in some small way, they felt they were defending God.

No one would hurt their nuns if _they_ could help it!

They were so of one mind about this, that all they could see was defending the priory gate. Therefore, none would budge when it came to moving uphill.

Guy shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. He paced a bit and kept looking up at the top of the hill as if the soldiers would pop up at any second.

Prioress Aurelia assured the villagers that following the blond man’s orders was the best thing to do, and then she and Sister Gunnora took the wagon into the priory and closed the big gates.

 

>\------------->

 

Finally, Guy turned and raised his voice. “DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE WE CAN FIND SOME LARGE PIECES OF WOOD VERY QUICKLY?”

One of the men said, “How about the buildings behind the priory? There are two of them in ruins. Falling apart. _They_ are made of wood.”

Guy let out a big sigh as if he had finally accomplished _something_. “Good!” he barked. “Take the horses and some rope and bring as many big pieces as you can carry and pull. And be quick about it!”

Guy set about lining up the men close together in two or three parallel lines. He sent the women to stand near a small copse of trees just to the left. He immediately gave up on Marion when she had exited the wagon before it was driven into the priory. Her hair was plaited in a long braid down her back and she was wearing a slightly shorter dress revealing her leather boots. She carried a staff with a small dagger in the belt at her waist and she stared down their glances with her head held high and a determined look on her little freckled face.

Will muttered, “Leave it to a woman to bring a change of clothing to a battle!”

Tuck shook his head and said to Robin, “Sometimes my little flower is more like a stubborn _weed_.”

Robin gave Marion his down-turned smile and turned to Tuck. “My May morning can spring up when the winter wind is still upon us. And if you are too near, it bites!”

Guy frowned at them while his mind raced a mile a minute. He kept biting his lower lip, glancing at his raggle-taggle army and then up the hill.

Finally, a loud noise came around the abbey. The men arrived with large pieces of wood. Guy started passing them out to the men standing in line. He jogged about half way up the hill and turned back to look at them. “HOLD UP THE WOOD! UP! UP! I DO NOT WISH TO SEE YOUR FACES!” Then he lowered his voice to mutter to himself, “For more reasons than _one_!”

The wind was blowing fairly strong and it blew his now longer hair into his face. Brushing it aside, he bellowed, “LET THEM DOWN! NOW. THE SOLDIERS WILL BE RUNNING DOWN THE HILL.” He turned a bit and waved his left arm in that direction. “THEY WILL ONLY BE ABLE TO GET OFF ONE ROUND OF ARROWS! THE WOOD WILL EXPOSE YOUR LEGS AND FEET, BUT SOLDIERS ARE TAUGHT TO AIM FOR THE CHEST AND HEAD! GOT THAT? KEEP YOUR CHEST AND HEAD _BLOCKED_! THEN, WHEN I YELL “DOWN!” THE FRONT ROW WILL DROP TO THEIR KNEES AND THE SECOND AND THIRD ROWS WILL SHOOT FOR AS LONG AS THEY CAN! UNDERSTOOD?”

Guy watched as all their faces suddenly lit up. “Yea! Yea!” they cheered. He shook his hair out of his face as he reached up to cover it with his hands. He stood for a moment to collect his thoughts and then, uncovering his face, jogged back down.

“Robin. You will need to be behind the first row. You are our best shot, besides _me_.”

The other outlaws had either missed Guy’s comment or had chosen to ignore it, but Robin glared at Guy until he heard a cleared throat beside him. Before Robin could turn and look, Guy said, “And _Nasir_.”

Nasir kept his eyes flat, while the corner of his mouth turned up in a little smirk. But Guy was walking away down the row of men.

“Will! Try practicing thrusting and parrying! And, John! Try practicing with the staff.” Guy never stopped to look at them, and Will and Little John were about to say something rude, when Guy pushed himself between two men and came up behind Tuck and Much. Stepping between them, and still walking, he said, “You two. Follow me.”

The three of them walked the short distance to the women and boys in front of the copse. Guy stopped and turned to Friar Tuck, giving him a hard glance. Tuck lowered his chin and looked up through his eyelashes with his innocent look. Then Guy turned and grabbed Much, taking him aside.

Much was furious during their walk. _He is expecting me to hide with the women and children! I am not going to sta…_ He was cut off in mid-thought when Guy pulled him to a stop. They were standing a little to one side as Guy turned Much and, putting both hands on his shoulders, stuck his face about two inches from the young lad’s.

“Much. I am putting you in charge. I am hoping this is not my worst judgment.”

The anger drained from Much’s face and his eyes widened.

Guy continued. “These women and children are willing to fight, but being down there is _not_ the best place for them. However, I cannot leave them out. I know you are a good shot.” Then he muttered, “But if you had carried the deer yourself, we might not all be here now.” Returning to his normal voice, he said, “So, I need you and Tuck and the young men to fire on the soldiers from here. Do you understand?”

Much nodded his head. He flashed back to when he was seven and the soldiers stationed nearby had come to teach the boys to shoot. All boys at seven years of age were required by law to learn to use a bow and arrow. Checking back in, Much heard Guy saying, “So, when the soldiers start down the hill, _shoot_! Just shoot as many arrows as everyone can, until they are too close to us for you to separate them from us. Do not bother with aiming. You are bound to hit _something_. Just keep shooting. That is what is really important here. Then, switch to your slingshots. Take careful aim and fire at the soldiers. Do you know what it is like when a bee is around you and it bothers you and you keep watching it and swatting at it?”

Much nodded his head.

“Well, I want you to be a swarm of bees. Even though the soldiers will be wearing helmets, every time you hit one, they will look around and give _us_ a chance to get to them. Hit them anywhere you can, but especially the head. Keep them distracted. This is _very_ important. It could save us all. Do you understand what I have told you?

Much nodded again.

“I want to hear you _say_ it, soldier!”

Much straightened as tall as he could and looked Guy right in the eye. “Yes, _sir_! You can count on me. _Sir_!”

Guy backed off, letting Much go. He shook his hair out of the face and smiled. “I’ll make a proper soldier out of you yet, Much. And remember. No matter what anyone says, _you_ are in charge. Make them understand that.” Looking back at the villagers, Guy raised his voice. We are _all_ counting on you.”

Much smiled. “Herne be with us!”

Guy leaned in and said through gritted teeth, “This is the _Church_. Better to go with _God_!”

“Oh! Right! GOD BE WITH US!” yelled Much.

Robin had moved to the end of the line and was watching them with a quizzical look on his face. His look turned into a frown, when he heard the word ‘God’ and he pulled his eyebrows together. Much glanced at Robin and then back to Guy. “You can count on _me_!” And then he broke into a big smile and waved at Robin.

“Good. Carry on.” Guy walked down the slope, feeling his hair bouncing around his shoulders and face.

“How _do_ you fight with this _hair_ in your face?” he demanded of Robin as he passed by.

Robin sucked in his lower lip and turned. “Marion _loves_ it!”

“And that is why a good soldier never marries…” Guy walked past Marion. “All right. If we live, you can cut my hair!” Guy had watched Marion and Tuck cutting the outlaws’ hair, but had demurred at having his own cut. “THRUST! ARM STRAIGHT OUT! THRUST!”

They all worked awhile longer then broke for a meal. Working again, in what was left of the daylight, they seemed to be shaping up. Then Guy ordered them all to rest awhile.

Lying down on a blanket, Sir Guy of Gisburne looked at the stars. _I finally get what I have always wanted: my own command. And_ look _what You stuck me with, Lord! Well, I suppose I got what I’ve prayed for since I was a boy, but you delivered in Your own way._ Guy closed his eyes, his long fair lashes on his ruddy cheeks, and fell asleep.

Marion was leaning up on her arms as she lay with Robin. “He sleeps so easily. Do you think he was taught that as a soldier? How to sleep whenever you get the chance?”

Robin snorted. “I try not to _think_ about Gisburne at _all_.” Then he turned to her and looked at her in the moonlight as he done almost every night since they had married. “Please be as careful as you can, my May morning. I love you so much.”

Marion smiled and bent to give Robin a quick kiss before settling down next to him. Now, it was Robin’s turn to stare at the stars. _Herne be with us_.

One of the boys ran down the hill just before dawn to let everyone know that he had seen torches in the distance moving toward them. The villagers readied themselves as best as they could remember from Guy and outlaws’ lessons. They paused for a moment to cross themselves and then clutched their weapons, such as they were.

 

>\------------->

 

The wind still blew hard, but the night was clear and bright. They had needed only the torches on King John’s carriage to see during the last push.

They reached the top of the hill as the sun rose to their right. _The sky is bright and full of promise_ , Sir Richard Fitzgilbert thought. _A very good omen_.

King John had jumped down from his carriage, and Fitzgilbert had dismounted his horse. They were not prepared to see all the people waiting for them. Fitzgilbert turned to the King. “I think I see _Sir Guy of Gisburne! IMPOSSIBLE!_ ” King John was in a rage. “YOU STUPID, INCOMPETENT IDIOT! THERE IS NO SENSE WAITING!” He looked up and down the line of soldiers. “CHARGE YOU FOOLS, CHARGE!”

As a soldier himself, this would not have been Fitzgilbert’s first plan and he just stood there watching his and the King’s soldiers as they pulled out their crossbows and swords. _At least they are well-trained_.

Fatigue from the long march and the last push, plus the screams from the angry King, sent both groups of soldiers into mass confusion. They barely had time to reach the top of the hill and look down to assess their form of attack. The Sheriff’s men quickly glanced at their leader, but he seemed as confused as they were, so the soldiers followed the orders of the King. Dropping their gear, they unsheathed their swords, trying not to bump into one another. The soldiers with crossbows were delayed as they loaded the weapons for a shot. Realizing that the advantage of firing before charging was lost, as some of the other soldiers had already started to advance, they glanced at one another, shrugged and ran forward themselves. Reaching what they hoped was the front of the charge, they fired their weapons and then quickly dropped them, struggling to unsheathe their swords as the downward motion of their bodies propelled them faster to the bottom of the ravine. As a result, many of the arrows sailed over the heads of the outlaws and villagers, landing harmlessly in the grass beyond the three rows, and several of the soldiers behind them tripped over the discarded weapons.

Fitzgilbert raised his eyebrows in surprise as the people down below raised wooden boards, like shields, to protect themselves. Then a pained look crossed his face as he recognized the bellowed “DOWN!” after the soldiers’ volley of crossbow bolts, and the longbows were raised and fired at his own men. He quickly noticed the arrows from his left. Guy had chosen wisely. Even though they were facing into the sun, it mattered not. Many of the arrows found their targets.

As the soldiers ran down the hill, a peculiar phenomenon occurred. The wind ceased and a very slight mist appeared. Everyone could still see, but it was confusing. However, one thing _was_ clear. The soldiers’ shiny armour!

Robin, and everyone with a bow, had starting firing into the soldiers as rapidly as they could when they heard Guy yell, “DOWN!” Robin was soon out of arrows and dropped his bow, pulling Albion out of its scabbard.

All of the soldiers plowed straight into the line. They fully expected the inexperienced men before them to part, so they made straight for the abbey. But the outlaws and villagers had no such fear. The soldiers were brought up short by the men poking them with pitchforks and staffs. Surprised, the trained men started to fight back, but, as Guy had hoped, they were now trapped in close quarters, giving the villagers the advantage for the moment.

Within seconds, the soldiers mentally regrouped and backed off. They began swinging with their swords. People fell. But not for long. Robin and his men were soon parrying the blows with their own swords, while the people fought back as best they could.

Much and his charges had switched to slingshots and were landing almost all of their small stones against the soldiers’ helmets and left arms. Facing into the sun, rising in the east, should have been a disadvantage for them, but the mist seemed to have raised a curtain on that side of the field, enabling them to fire with great accuracy. The occasional villager, and Will, were accidentally hit, but Much plowed on, encouraging his charges in what would later be described as a rather good imitation of Sir Guy of Gisburne. He would also receive a cuff about the ear from Scarlet the next day as he rubbed a very large bruise, but it was mostly in fun.

The villagers were intent on remembering a little trick that Guy had taught them: try to parry the swords on the flat side, so as not to have their staves and pitchforks cut in half by the sharp edges. The soldiers were taken aback by the fierceness of these simple people and the cunning of their attack.

The wounded and dead made the footing even harder in the small ravine. Guy began thinking this wasn’t the worst idea in the world after all. Perhaps, he had been lucky they were already there. It was difficult for Guy when he came upon a soldier that he had been friends with in Nottingham, but he was trained to fight. He had decided the night before that he would think of them as traitors. Everyone hates a traitor, so swinging at them was made easier. Of course, after the initial surprise of seeing the young knight in outlaw clothing and long hair, the soldiers realized he was with Robin Hood and thought of _Guy_ as a traitor.

Robin worked hard, swinging Albion about and parrying blows. He tried to let Albion do the work. It was an enchanted sword after all, and he needed to try to see what everyone else was doing, especially Marion. After the initial cry of “DOWN” from Gisburne, Robin felt he was now back in charge. These were _his_ people, not unlike the people of Sherwood.

One soldier found himself unexpectedly through the line of villagers with a clear view of the abbey. His mind worked quickly. _Should I keep running at the abbey and hope others will follow? Or should I turn back and attack from the rear?_ He glanced back and forth and realized he was alone. The abbey was out of the question, but the woman on his left was not. This soldier knew Marion quite well and if he attacked her, it could give them an advantage. _She was always a prissy little thing. Better than anyone else. Then she ran off to live with a wolfshead. She is not better than anyone else now!_ He ran forward a bit to take himself out of Marion’s sight. She was fighting another soldier with a sword she had picked up from the ground. He turned to his left and, circling around from the back, began running toward her.

Much had been watching Marion as she was on the end of the line, closest to the copse. He had decided to target any soldier that came near her. _I will be a bee buzzing around the head of any man who comes near her. That is what Robin would want me to do._ So, he spotted the soldier when the man broke through the line. _He is near Robin! What if he swings his sword at Robin’s back? I should yell! But no one will hear me!_ Then he realized that the soldier had no idea he was anywhere near Robin Hood, but he _had_ spotted Marion. There was nothing for it, but to desert his post.

Marion had landed a deciding blow against the soldier’s head and watched him go down. She smiled to herself and moved to fight another when something caught her eye from the right. Turning, she was surprised to see Much running with all his might straight at her! Caught off guard, she froze and stared, unaware of the appending danger to her left.

Much had dropped his slingshot and was empty-handed, but a plan had formed in his mind. He noticed that Marion had froze, looking at him, but there was no time to shout a warning. The soldier was upon her! He was easily a full head taller and much larger with the uniform. Much’s last thought was, _She looks so little…_ Then he took a flying leap.

The soldier had raised the sword above his head. He would slice the little whore in half, from the top her head to her toes. He was so intent on his cunning plan, that he failed to see Much literally flying at him. Much caught the soldier with his shoulder in the side, under his raised arm. It lifted the man right off his feet, and both of them crashed into the ground. The soldier was on his side with Much’s arms around him. Much had landed face down and was disoriented, but Marion had turned fully around as the young man flew behind her. The soldier rolled onto his back, trapping Much underneath him. Unfortunately, that was not the neatest trick he could have played, for Marion ran up and planted her sword squarely into the man’s neck. Blood spurted up and the soldier died instantly. Marion ignored everything and rolled the soldier off of Much. Her _hero_!

Much was still dazed as Marion pulled him up to give him a hug. The lad was embarrassed and tried to push her away. He needed to tend to the soldier. But the man lay dead on his side with the sword sticking clean through his neck and a bit of dirt on the tip where it had struck the ground. Then, they were both distracted by a noise. It was the soldiers calling to one another as the wind came back up and blew the mist away.

 

>\------------->

 

As they watched the mêlée below, King John grew angrier. “We should have brought more soldiers! Why are these silly villagers fighting so hard? Give us the girl and we will go!”

The Sheriff intervened. “If she has told the entire abbey community, we cannot leave them behind. The villagers know this. Pagans or Church people, they guard the clergy. Nuns especially are thought to be good luck.”

“ _I_ know _that_. But do they even know why we are _here_?”

“Unlikely.”

“ _Very_ unlikely,” came a soft but strong feminine voice from behind them.

Both men whirled around to face Prioress Aurelia. The driver of King John’s carriage looked down on her from his seat.

“I tried to come to you in person with Gunnora of Gisburne, but now realize you would never have listened. All inside the abbey would be dead now and for nothing. I am in a deep sleep and am appearing to you as you see and hear me. For this I have no explanation, other than you need to know the truth: We have no idea of the whereabouts of the Holy Grail. And, as far as I know, no one living does.”

The three men stood or sat, as if rooted to the spot, unable to move. The Prioress walked forward and stood directly in front of King John. She raised her arm and passed her hand through his head.

“I am not here and, yet, by the grace of God, I am.”

Prioress Aurelia stepped away and placed her hands back in the full sleeves of her habit.

“Please understand that you are wasting your time. Innocent people are dying for no reason other than your vanity and greed. Return home and God go with you and forgive you your sins.”

The Prioress vanished.

King John had been alternating between chills and sweat since the nun had ‘touched’ him. Now, he found himself freed from the ground. Running to his carriage, he climbed inside.

“WE ARE _LEAVING_! WE ARE _LEAVING_! YOU ARE A _FOOL_ , FITZGILBERT, A _FOOL_! AND FOR THIS VERY REASON, YOU HAVE JUST FORFEITED _ALL_ YOUR LANDS AND TITLES AND SHALL REMAIN SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM UNTIL YOU OR ROBIN ‘I THE HOOD _DIE_!”

King John slammed the door shut and shouted to the driver, “DRIVE YOU FOOL! BACK TO LONDON!”

The carriage lurched forward and rounded the top of the hill in a wide turn. The driver whipped the horses into a full gallop, away from the skirmish.

Richard Fitzgilbert had jumped on his horse, cruelly pulled at the bit to turn the poor beast and dug in his heels to chase after King John.

Soldiers at the outer rim of the fighting saw them leave. “King John and the Sheriff have left!” they said to one another.

Still fighting, they moved backward until they could turn and run. “THE KING IS GONE!”

 

>\------------->

 

The news that the King had left quickly spread through the crowd. The soldiers fought, no longer to move forward, but to move back. Soon, everyone was aware of what was going on and ceased fighting.

Albion had taken one last swing, slicing a soldier’s arm, when Robin realized that the mob had parted. The last two soldiers were running up the hill, following the rest, who had disappeared over the top. The outlaws and villagers were now behind him and Guy, who stood a little way off.

They had won the day and saved the abbey! Robin slammed his bloodied sword into the ground in front of him, as if to stake his claim.

Guy bent over, breathing hard, with his hands on his upper thighs. He looked up at the two soldiers running away. Suddenly, he noticed the sun glinting off of something in one of men’s hands. Straightening up, he turned to his right and ran toward Robin.

“SHOOT! SHOOT!” he yelled. “SHOOT!”

Robin’s head turned almost in slow motion toward Guy, uncomprehending. He picked up the bow beside him. His right hand reached behind him automatically and pulled one lone arrow out of his quiver. His head turned back as he brought up the bow, notched the arrow and fired at the two men.

Guy had swiveled on the ball of his foot as he saw Robin reaching for the arrow. He was running hard after the soldiers. As long as any of the townspeople who fought with them that day lived, they would swear that the arrow actually flew through the air straight at Guy, curved around him, and moved at an angle to hit the man on the left in the back. The other man kept on running.

Robin stood, almost frozen in time, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. Without thinking, Marion, helping Much stay steady on his feet, and the outlaws moved slowly to form a half circle around their leader. The villagers had begun to slowly back off to the copse, almost knocking Tuck down as he hurried forward to join his friends.

Guy reached the fallen man, skidding to a halt and falling on his knees. He reached out and grabbed the sword out of the fallen man’s hand and thrust it triumphantly into the air.

Prioress Aurelia and Sister Gunnora opened the doors of the abbey and stepped out. They were walking toward the outlaws, who were transfixed at the sight before them. Suddenly, Sister Gunnora ran forward next to the Robin.

“It’s Guy’s sword!” she cried out. “The one father bought him!”

The sound of her voice seemed to snap everyone out of their stupor. They started looking around at each other and back at Guy.

Guy stood up and, walking back, wiped off the blood on the blade of the sword under his arm. Then he started looking it over. He was quite calm as he reached the outlaws and his sister. He looked at Robin. “Good shot!”

“Umm. Yes. Yes, it was considering I did not have any arrows left, and I am sure the bow was part way up the hill!” Robin had spoken softly, so that only those closest to him could hear. His face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, looking down at the bow in his left hand. “Tuck?”

Tuck turned his eyes heavenward and rocked back and forth on his feet with his hands in the large sleeves of his frock. “The Lord is with us.” Then he glanced at the Prioress, smiled a little angelic smile at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Or Herne…”

Prioress Aurelia frowned deeply and shook her head at the friar.

 

>\------------->

 

The weary villagers had returned home before the sun could go down. The outlaws had picked up their belongings and joined the Prioress and Gunnora. It had been a long afternoon, tending to the injured and carrying off the dead to bury them on the other side of the hill.

Tuck reasoned that the burial ground shouldn’t be directly in front of the abbey. He had blessed all the dead and was noting that very few had actually died that day. Although there were many injuries, most would heal with scars. The wounded soldiers were taken to the village, along with the others. The villagers promised to bind up their wounds and send them home with the horses and wagon Robin and his band had ridden to Keldholme.

The outlaws stopped by the Prioress, appraising their own state at last. Robin had a slight cut on one leg, Will had a black eye, Little John was nursing a lump on his head, Nasir was tending to a cut on his left arm, Guy was holding his bruised ribs, Martin and Phillip had various bruises on their bodies and Marion had a bruise on her cheek. Much had a scraped forehead and nose where he had slid on the ground. Meanwhile, Tuck looked none the worse for wear in terms of injuries, but all were filthy from the burials. The Prioress turned and they followed her to the abbey.

The nuns scurried across the courtyard and indoors when the strangers entered the abbey grounds. “No one but the priests have ever been in here,” they whispered among themselves. The Prioress and Sister Gunnora walked toward a shed where they kept their gardening tools. The nuns had set up a makeshift infirmary with a fire just outside to heat water. The two women left the outlaws to tend to themselves, and Sister Gunnora returned later with a pile of blankets and food in a wheelbarrow.

The next morning, the outlaws were roused at daybreak by a ringing bell, followed by singing from within the main house. Tuck, Guy and Marion approached the building and knelt outside an open window, joining in the matins. The rest of the outlaws frowned at being awoken so early and then groaned as they felt the wear and tear on their bodies from the day before.

Will pushed his hands into his back, straightening up and looked at the returning trio. “Bloody, bruised and sore. Wonderful holiday, Gisburne. Pray tell. What do you have planned for next Summer Solstice?”

Guy deepened his frown and was thinking of a good retort, when Tuck put his hand on the knight’s arm and turned around. How he had heard the soft footsteps approaching from the rear was beyond anyone’s ken. A little nun handed the friar a note without ever looking up, tucked her hands back in her voluminous sleeves, turned and scurried off.

Tuck read aloud. “Please feel free to walk outside or rest where you are. I have many things to contemplate and discuss with the priest. You are to remain here for a week, but have no contact with the nuns. Prioress Aurelia.”

“Good enough…” said Will and he dropped back down on his blanket. Everyone else shrugged their shoulders and made surprised faces at each other.

The outlaws busied themselves with three meals a day and plenty of rest. And Marion, Tuck and Guy seemed to very much enjoy the daily prayer services from outside ‘their’ window.

Finally, a priest arrived at the front gate and was let in by Much with a huge grin. He had taken to answering the little bell when it rang. At first, Prioress Aurelia was taken aback, but finally shrugged and let the boy have the job. The priest was quite surprised to see the men in the courtyard by the shed, but, saying nothing, exchanged nods with Friar Tuck. Each of the outlaws had taken great pains never to exit the shed without being fully clothed. Even pagans have respect for nuns, if not the rest of the Church.

Finally, Prioress Aurelia, the priest and Sister Gunnora came out of the convent and walked toward them. Only _sister_ was not exactly the right word. All eyes were wide to see little Gunnora dressed in a beautiful light blue gown. She was pulling at the sleeves and waist.

Guy raised an eyebrow at the Prioress. “You kept the clothes my sister arrived in?”

The Prioress inclined her head slightly. “A nagging in my mind at the time, so I put them aside.”

“I’ve quite outgrown them!” Gunnora whined.

Guy’s eyes looking her up and down. “You were 14 at the time and now your _ankles_ are showing!”

Everyone, including the Prioress Aurelia, turned a bright red. “Run back, girl, and put on your habit!” Gunnora turned and fled.

The Prioress cleared her throat and everyone hurried over from where they were standing or sitting. The mother had quite captivated these rough men. She was a woman who deserved respect at all times. Then Prioress Aurelia began to speak. “It has been decided that Sister Gunnora was brought to these walls at Keldholme under false pretenses. She, herself, admits she has never quite fit in. Therefore, she must go. However, since she has been cloistered these many years, the girl is ill-prepared to just enter the outside world.” She nodded in the priest’s direction. “Inquires have been made, and it has been discovered that the Gisburnes have family in Germany. Therefore, I have dispatched a letter to them and, now, she will go there to learn and marry or whatever she wishes.”

Guy opened his mouth, but the Prioress cut him off. “I have decided that this is what her _mother_ would have wanted.” Guy shut his mouth and frowned. The rest of the outlaws had smug smiles on their faces and wiggled their eyebrows at him.

The Prioress cleared her throat and everyone straightened their faces and turned back to her. “The priest will accompany her on this journey.”

“I _must_ protest!” cried Guy. “Surely, _I_ should accompany her?”

“No!” Everyone looked at Robin. He sucked in his lower lip and narrowed his eyes at Guy. “ _We_ have unfinished business! You will return to Sherwood with _us_.”

Everyone stared in surprise at Robin. It suddenly dawned on every one of them, that Robin had just been another wolfshead for many months! Suddenly, he was Robin i’ the Hood again. Their leader.

“I beg your pardon!” shouted Guy.

“Excuse us, Prioress, we need to have a quick _word_ outside.” Robin walked over to the fire and grabbed Albion, wiping the dirt off under his arm and stalking out of the gate. Everyone followed in silence, except the Prioress, the priest, Martin, Phillip and Gunnora, who had just run up to the Prioress’ side.

Robin stopped up short and stuck Albion straight out from his chest. Without thinking, everyone walked to their place and put a hand on the sword, including Sir Guy of Gisburne. Immediately, the vibrating began through their bodies. Robin closed his eyes. “Together we…” A vision flashed through Robin’s mind: horses, Alan, mud. “Home.” Albion dropped to the ground and everyone jumped.

Guy frowned. Scarlet even more so. “Right stuck wif him we are, right _stuck_.”

Tuck nodded his head solemnly. “And the _word_ is _home_!”

Retuning to the priory in silence, they were surprised when the Prioress said, “Along with Martin and Phillip,” as if no one had ever left. Little John rubbed the knot on his head and looked at Nasir as if to say, _Maybe we never did!_ Nasir cocked his eyebrow as if to say sometimes it is difficult to tell when Albion and Herne were involved.

Ignoring them, the Prioress continued. “The villagers will see that they get to the coast. The rest of you can _walk_ home. It will be a good time to reflect upon everything that has happened.”

Will’s mouth and eyes flew open, but nothing came out as the Prioress turned on her heel with a “God be with you and take your Herne as well.” She marched to the door and slammed it shut behind her.

Marion turned to the shed and, as she passed Will, she patted him on the arm. “You will catch flies in there, you will.” Will clamped his mouth shut, and no one said a word as they rolled up their belongings and walked out of the gate. It, too, was slammed behind them by some unseen force.

Martin and Phillip were excited about their adventure. Little John promised to tell their families where they were off to and what adventures they would have to tell when they returned. _Foreign countries!_ The four turned to walk off to Keldholme after a long hug between Guy and Gunny. Then the outlaws trudged up the hill for their long journey home.

 

>\------------->

 

Early the next morning, the outlaws set out on the trail again. Will was still fuming and walked ahead, occasionally muttering to himself.

Marion and Robin walked arm in arm as Robin kept a wary eye on Will. Guy caught up with them and spoke to Marion. “I would assume that you are aware that some of the scars on my back and left arm are from being shot and burned.”

Marion tried not to smile. She had wondered when Guy would get around to this subject. “It was a lucky shot and I was trying to stop you from killing my husband. You set _yourself_ on fire when you fell and knocked over the lantern!”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I have been thinking on that subject and have decided to forgive you. But your _husband_ shot me for no reason at all.” And Guy raised his chin in his superior manner.

Marion hooked her other arm through Guy’s and looked up at him. “I accept on my _own_ behalf and have no reason to give for the other.” Turning her head, she continued, “Husband? Why did you shoot your brother for no reason at all?” Now, she couldn’t help herself and, looking straight ahead, started to giggle.

Both men rolled their eyes, pressed their lips together and turned to glare at each other over Marion’s head. The rest of the outlaws fell a bit further behind. Tuck quickly crossed himself, then erased all his feelings from face and, with eyes skyward, started to hum a bit. Much looking confused and Little John and Nasir, as one, dropped back even further.

Remembering that Guy had shot Marion as well, Robin opened his mouth to tell him it was in revenge, but was cut off by Will Scarlet. “Oy! ’Ear that, then?” He was standing stock still with his head cocked to one side. Suddenly, he turned to his right and darted into the brush and trees.

Everyone else had come to a halt at Will’s cry. Robin and Guy pulled themselves from Marion’s arms and dashed forward with everyone else hot on their heels. Turning at the same spot as Will, they crashed through the brush a short way, only to almost run Will over. As everyone entered the edge of the small clearing, they saw Alan sitting on a large rock playing the lute. Just beyond him were their horses.

Without looking up, Alan sang:

 

“Some say ’tis a cup of silver or gold

Encrusted with jewels and made from a mold

That is that I have heard it said

In the Quest for the Holy Grail

 

“Some say ’tis a bowl of wood or earth

Who is to say what is its worth

The loss o’er which many tears would be shed

In the Quest for the Holy Grail

 

“Some say tis the Man of flesh and blood

Who walked the earth of sand and mud

Hung on a cross and arose from the dead

In the Quest for the Holy Grail

 

“Some say ’tis a myth and nothing more

Old wives’ tales and sailors’ lore

But many a soul has lost his head

In the Quest for the Holy Grail”

  


Alan stopped and looked over at them. The solemn look left his face to be replaced by his biggest grin. Then he stood and took a deep bow.

“Unbelievable! Un..be..lie…va… _ble_! _Magic? Unlucky? What?_ ” Will bellowed, his arms crossed.

Guy pushed past Will and went straight toward the horses. Grabbing hold of the large grey horse by the bridle, he started running his hand down the long muzzle and cooing a bit.

“Do not even _attempt_ to answer!” Will shot Alan a scowl as he brushed past him, mounted a steed and crossed back to the trail.

Alan shrugged his shoulders and everyone ran to follow suit. Now was not the time for talking. Now was the time for going home!

 

>\------------->

 

The ride back seemed shorter to all the outlaws. Alan had explained that he had come upon a group of soldiers the night before and had liberated them of their horses. “I am truly becoming an outlaw! I shall add that to my acting.”

“You _act_?” Will glanced at him.

“ _Unfortunately!_ ” Guy bellowed. And then let the subject drop.

“I knew you were coming,” Robin had told Alan on the first day. “I ‘saw’ you.”

“I had a feeling I should come when I got to Nottingham and was almost run over by the King himself as he and the Sheriff and the soldiers rushed out. I waited a bit in the castle and spoke with William Marshal. He said he had advised against the venture. The Quest for the Holy Grail was a bit silly to him.”

“William Marshal?”

“Hmm. He is the _real_ king. He runs things in the background. But, sometimes, even _he_ cannot control John.”

“But you arrived after we left.”

“True enough. I did ride up, but took my time. Did not want to be seen with you.” Alan smiled.

Robin frowned. “Of course not. Then you would not be able to write ballads about me.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

Robin and Guy often glared at one another, but said nothing about the discussion they had been having with Marion when Alan showed up.

Friar Tuck had been riding along on his little ambler, mostly praying, partly enjoying the view. “God is surely with us,” he announced aloud to no one in particular one day. Then he felt a presence. He glanced to his right, and his eyes scrolled up the black horse to the rider. Nasir looked down on Tuck and raised one eyebrow. Tuck immediately added, “Or Herne,” and looked straight down the road with an innocent expression on his round face. Nasir nudged his horse ahead with a smug grin on his own face, and the friar crossed himself.

As they eagerly set out on the final morning, Alan steered them off the trail they had been following. “We have been lucky so far in not being seen...” he said. Then, glancing at Tuck, he added, “or not. But I know a way through the trees here that is a bit shorter. We will have to ride single file, but it will still be faster.” All agreed to follow Alan.

Soon they were sitting side by side on their horses at the edge of a large meadow, staring at Sherwood Forest.

“Home,” everyone said at the same time.

As they finished the word, the clouds opened up and rain poured down on them.

Will sighed. “And I see Sherwood feels the same, welcoming us with yet another English rainy day…”

Robin, Marion, Tuck and Alan pulled their hoods up and they all raced across the meadow and into the trees. A short way in was a clearing. As they entered it, the rain stopped as abruptly as it had started.

“Oy!” yelled Will and scowled at the sky.

Alan broke into laughter and, pushing his hood off, ran his fingers through his long dark hair. “This is one of my camping spots.” He pointed to a area on the other side of the clearing. “There is dry kindling over there.”

Everyone dismounted and shook themselves then quickly fell into setting up camp and starting a fire. Everyone, that is, but Robin and Guy. Robin felt Herne and the feeling of safety. He had been slightly unnerved during the entire time away from their area of the forest, although he had mentioned it to no one. Now, he had his full courage back and turned on Guy. Guy, it seemed, was ready, as he turned to Robin at the same time.

Everyone froze and looked at the looked at the two, when Robin yelled, “SHOOTING _YOU_ SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME!”

“I AM _SURE_ IT DID!”

“YOU SHOT _MARION_!”

“SHE SHOT ME _FIRST_! AND SHE SEEMS NONE THE WORSE FOR IT!”

“THANKS TO _HERNE_ AND THE POWERS OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS!”

Their eyes were ablaze with fury and both took a swing at each other at the same time. Both missed. They leapt at each other and wrapped their arms around the other. They hit the ground with Robin on top. But before they could continue, Marion ran up and grabbed Robin’s hood, pulling him back while the strings choked him, giving her the upper hand. Then she put her foot on Guy’s chest.

“STOP IT! This has been coming on for quite a time, but it is just between the two of you. Give me your swords and take it over there!” Marion stepped back and pointed to a little path heading into the forest.

Robin and Guy managed to get their feet, still holding the front of each other’s shirts in their fists. They were almost nose to nose.

“I _MEAN_ IT! GO!” And Marion held out her hands.

Robin and Guy both stood still for a few seconds before letting go with a little push. They pulled out their swords and stalked around Marion, one on each side, placing the hilts in her hands, to the start of the path. Robin pulled off his hooded tunic and threw it on the ground. Coming back together, Guy pushed Robin’s upper arm. Robin looked shocked, his eyes and mouth wide open. He pushed Guy back.

“KEEP _MOVING_!”

Neither of them looked back at Marion. They were furiously looking at each other.

Marion walked to the small fire and planted both swords into the damp ground, close to each other, then looked up at the outlaws staring at Robin and Guy. Alan opened his mouth to say something, but Marion put up her hand and glared at him. Then she turned and folded her arms across her chest. The only other person to move was Alan, who stepped up to stand beside Marion, crossing his arms as well.

Robin and Guy were furiously pushing each other like little boys. They were walking sideways. Finally, in the small area, they wrapped their arms around each other in a wrestling hold. Still moving, the edge of their feet caught on something and they fell sideways, disappearing from sight.

“That,” Alan said in small voice and hung his head, scrunching up his face and shrugging his shoulders. Still, no one moved. After a bit of everyone vainly stretching their necks to see if they could get a glimpse of the two, Marion turned. “Everyone back to work,” she said calmly with a haughty look on her face. “I will check on them later.”

The outlaws all looked at each other in amazement. Everyone wanted to run and see what was happening, but, glancing again at Marion’s look, in which she made them seem like little boys confronted by their mother for doing something naughty, they quickly made themselves busy with the camp and the horses.

 

>\------------->

 

Robin and Guy took a sideways fall over the large protruding root. Over they went with one leg each in the air, arms flailing.

They both landed on their sides with a plop, ending up in a little muddy pool of water recently formed by the passing shower.

Both men jumped to their feet and started swinging, landing blows to face and body, moving around each other, stirring up the mud. Soon, it was slippery and they were sliding around. Getting what each thought was a fairly good foothold, they swung at the same time, both landing a blow to the jaw. Their feet went out from under them and they plopped into the mud on their rear ends. Climbing to their feet, they swung again. Same face landing, same butt landing. Turning around on their knees, they lunged at each other and tried another wrestling hold. Slipping over sideways, they rolled around, kicking and swinging. Splashed with mud, they got their footing and pushed each other in the chest. This time, they not only landed on their rears, they each slid back a little.

Robin and Guy were quite out of breath by this time. They placed their hands, with fingers spread out, on either side of their bodies and leaned back a little. Gasping for air, they finally looked in each other’s eyes. Slowly the anger disappeared as they kept staring at each other. The memory of a past fight filled their faces and widened their eyes. After a minute of not moving, other than their chests heaving with heavy breathing, they suddenly both started pressing their lips together. Their eyes narrowed and they tried hard, but it was no use. The ill-fated brothers, who had not asked for any of this, burst into laughter.

As if on cue, Marion appeared, standing on the root. She folded her arms and gave them a look of knowing satisfaction.

“Gisburnes! Stop playing around in the mud and come up here!”

 

THE END.

 

“The men of Sherwood traveled afar

This story does unfold.

They fought King John and won the day

Nun’s honour to uphold, uphold,

An…hon-our…to…uphold.”

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

  
I would like to thank Richard Carpenter for “The village of Loxley” quote from his book _Robin of  
Sherwood_ (1984), Chapter 8, page 66. It added a more mystical quality to his story and mine. 

 

 

ENDWORD

 

Thank you for reading the opening trilogy of my journey into the AU world of _Robin of Sherwood_. I hope you will continue to follow Robin Hood and his Merry Men, plus Marion, on their further adventures. The tales will be complete in one story from now on. Up next: _A Rainy May Morning_. Can Marion be found and saved from a rogue outlaw by a _blind_ Robin?

 


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